


Accompany Me

by dreamerjules (jelaine3)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, M/M, but not really, dub con, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21663040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelaine3/pseuds/dreamerjules
Summary: Romance without sex. How does that work?
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins
Kudos: 13





	Accompany Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2019 SPN Reverse Bang challenge on LJ.
> 
> Art was created by a gotaprettymouth. It's beautiful and I hope the story does it justice.

There’s a bright glare for a moment as the door to Jeff’s Roadhouse opened to let in the group of guys looking to blow off steam after whatever. The interior was exactly what you would expect. Dark walls with neon beer signs, sports logos for various teams and not just local ones either. Directly behind the cash register is a picture of the Three Stooges in old-timey golf outfits with the name Jared written over Larry’s image in Sharpie and the names Jeff and Jensen being written over and marked out and written over again, an apparent fight over who was Moe and who was Curly.

“Alright. First round’s on Misha!” laughs Dick at the shell-shocked look on Misha’s face. It’s not that he’s never been in a bar before – he has, thank you very much, Rob. It’s that Misha has caught sight of the incredibly beautiful man he’d seen at the ballgame.

He’s behind the bar, laughing at the almost equally good-looking bearded man, mixing some kind of drink. There were four people on the other side of the bar. A ridiculously tall man with shiny, floppy hair, his arm wrapped about a pretty brunette, a tall, pretty blonde, and a short man with a receding hairline, complaining loudly in an English accent about the lack of service, though Misha got the impression it was more of an inside joke than an actual complaint.

It looked nice.

“Come on, Misha. You have to need adult company after hanging with those kids all day,” said Dick, pulling Misha further into the bar.

“Agreed. You’ve found an adult to introduce me to?”

“Whoever told you you have a sense of humor lied. Garcon, service, s’il vous plait!” Dick leaned on the bar, snapping his fingers for attention.

Beauty and the Beard looked at each other, neither seeming interested in responding to the summons. Beardy looked over, gave Misha a small nod and a smile and headed somewhere further behind the bar.

“Son of a bitch,” murmured Beauty, eliciting raucous laughter from his friends. “I hate all of you.”

“Nah, you love us,” the blonde drew out in a singsong fashion. “Go get ‘em, Jensen.”

Jensen. That was an unusual name in Misha’s experience. He liked it though. It fit the handsome man.

“What can I get you, gentlemen?”

“I’ll have a tequila horizon and a Shirley Temple for my friend.”

“Let me guess, lotta tequila, very little sunrise?”

“It’s like you can read my mind.”

“I did finish third grade.”

Misha ducked his head to hide a smile. Of course, he had to be funny as well as gorgeous.

“And what about you, Blue Eyes? Do you really want a Shirley Temple, or can I get you something else?

“I’d prefer an Arnold Palmer if that’s alright.”

“Of course, it is. I’m Jensen, by the way.”

Dick jumped in. “Our little Misha just moved to town. He’s the new youth coordinator at Resurrection MCC. He’s a regular angel.”

For half a second, Misha wished he was because couldn’t angels smite people? He was pretty sure smiting Dick would be very satisfying.

“Yeah? I had a couple of friends get married there. They’re divorced now, so that might not have been the best thing to bring up.”

Jensen stepped away to get a bottle of something to make their drinks.

“Dick, what are you doing?”

“Being the most awesome wingman ever. You’re welcome.”

“You don’t need to do that. I am perfectly capable....”

“One, no, you’re not. Two, you deserve all the good things, my brother, but you are shit at putting yourself out there. Good things are not just going to fall into your lap.”

“I have ‘all the good things.’ You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m worried about me, my friend. I don’t want to be babysitting your sorry ass until you’re in your dotage.”

“Dotage? Somebody’s well preserved in that case,” says Jensen placing their drinks in front of them.

Dick starts to make a face conveying outrage and disappointment when his cell phone rings. In a split second, his face lights up as he answers.

“Rob Roy, how’s it hanging? You should have been here twenty minutes ago.” Dick slid off the barstool, not bothering to excuse himself.

“His boyfriend?” asked Jensen.

“Definitely his life partner, though it’s strictly platonic. I think. I hope.”

Jensen moved back slightly, a cautious and curious look in his eyes.

“You work at Resurrection and you have a problem with gays?”

“I don’t have a problem with anyone in the LGBTQIAPK community. I hope it’s platonic between Dick and Rob because we’ve been as close as brothers since high school and incest is not best, even if it really isn’t incest and they would have told me. Which doesn’t mean that things haven’t changed, and they haven’t gotten around to telling me yet.”

“I get that. I’d be blinded forever if anything like that happened between Jared and Jeff. Not that’s it’s going to. They’re both married to beautiful women.”

“The Three Stooges,” said Misha as he pointed to the picture behind the register.

“Yeah, that’s us,” said Jensen, a fond smile lighting his face.

"I feel I should apologize for Dick. He can be…."

"A dick?"

"I was going to say exuberant, but that works too." Misha ducked his head and smiled. In fact, he was pretty sure he hadn't stopped smiling since they'd walked in. He hoped he didn't look like an idiot.

"How did your team do today? Those were your church kids, right?"

Misha raised his head astonished.

"Yeah, I noticed."

Misha couldn't really remember what they talked about later. He only knew that they had talked until closing about everything: sports, work – turns out Jensen didn't work at the Roadhouse but was a baseball coach and English teacher at Brantley High School, their friends, their lives. It was easy. Nothing had ever been that easy before. He doubted anything would be that easy again.

Certainly not their first date.

Because in all that free-flowing, easy conversation, sex had never been a topic. In any way, much less orientation and Misha knew better than to hope Jensen was like him. Even he could pick up on Jensen's sex appeal and had he been anyone other than himself, Misha would have succumbed as he believed most everyone did when confronted with a sexually interested Jensen.

Except he wasn't sure if Jensen was sexually interested in him. Interested, yes, definitely, but Misha hadn't picked up any warning signs that Jensen wanted more than good conversation. Even with an actual date on the books, maybe all he wanted was a friend.

Misha wasn't sure he was okay with that idea. He didn't want to have sex with Jensen, true, but he really liked him. He didn't want to be just his friend, but he didn't want to be his lover either.

Things would be so much simpler if his romantic orientation – homoromantic - lined up with his sexual orientation – asexual. Not that he would change things even if he could. It had been a long and painful journey to accept himself, to love himself exactly as he was. He wouldn't give that up for anyone. Not even Jensen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Being summer vacation, Jensen started their date off on a Thursday afternoon. The local museums were free that day and the Fine Arts Museum was hosting an exhibition of Impressionist portraits. Misha had admitted, when both Dick and Rob had teased him mercilessly, to having been quite passionate about art and Impressionism – no, it was not an obsession, thank you very much, Dick – in high school and college. There was nothing wrong with being an art major. Really. There wasn't.

They had taken their time, looking at the permanent collection as well as the Impressionists. Misha was delighted with Jensen's intelligent and insightful observations. Less so with his groan-inducing dad jokes, but those tended to be on point as well.

After the museum, they went to the Old Spaghetti Warehouse for dinner. Over a delicious meal, Jensen kept up a running commentary on the supposed ghost sightings that occurred there. Misha joined in when Jensen started making up stories about what the ghosts were doing when they weren't showing up to scare people. The ghosts apparently had quite the soap opera style afterlife.

Since Jensen insisted he wanted to take Misha to his favorite restaurant for dessert, they skipped it though Misha had argued for splitting a slice of Italian cream cake. Who doesn't have an Italian cream cake at an Italian restaurant?

Jensen drove them around, pointing out some of the more interesting sights, such as the Art Car Museum, the beer can house, and the water wall before taking them to the local repertory movie theater that was showing _Seven Samurai_.

Misha had half expected Jensen would have a running commentary to go with the movie, but Jensen once again took his expectations and turned them upside down. He had all sorts of facts and trivia before the lights went down, but once the film started, he was all rapt attention. In fact, Misha spent as much time watching Jensen watch the movie as he did watching the movie itself.

"The Magnificent Seven is my dad's favorite movie. The original obviously, not the remake. Though the remake doesn't suck. Once I found out the original was kind of a remake itself, I had to see the movie that started it all."

They were finally getting dessert and Misha laughed himself silly once he saw the name as he realized Jensen had never mentioned it in hopes of getting this exact reaction if the pleased as punch look on his face was anything to go by.

House of Pies.

"So how many times have you seen it?"

"More than five, less than ten. I like seeing the differences between the cultures and the production and how it's the same story, very well told, in spite, or maybe because, of those differences."

Misha just smiled, not saying anything. They had been together all day and the more he saw of Jensen, the more he liked. He really hoped Jensen would keep surprising him.

"Have I got something on my face?"

"What? No. I just… really enjoy it when you talk. Especially about something you care about."

"I guess I have been hogging the conversation. Sorry about that. You talk for a while. So, what was your favorite thing today?"

"Spending time with you. But my second favorite thing was that one painting we saw, Young Woman with Peonies. The flowers were so vibrant and beautiful, but the young woman didn't take any pleasure, any joy at their beauty. She just seemed tired, like she didn't want to be there."

"That's your favorite thing? Why?"

"Okay, favorite might not be the right word, but it definitely had the biggest impact. I can't help wondering what her story was, what her life was like that she seemed resigned, I guess, to a life that let her down? It just makes me want to know more about her."

"You really are just all heart, aren't you?"

Misha chuckled. "No. Not even a little bit."

"But you care about people in a way that makes you not just want to help, but to understand how best to help. How to really see them, who they really are, not just what they let people see."

"You give me far too much credit."

"You don't give yourself enough."

"Have you been talking to Dick and Rob? Cause they do nothing but lie."

"I did see Dick at the Roadhouse the other day. Apparently, he felt he needed to deliver the shovel speech before our date."

"The shovel speech?" Misha looked confused. Adorable, but confused. Adorably confused.

"Yeah, the shovel speech. 'Hurt my friend and I'll beat you to death with a shovel and use it to bury you.'"

"That was unnecessary."

"Obviously Dick doesn't agree. It's okay. I'm actually kind of glad he did it."

"Why?"

"One, it's good to know you have someone who cares about you so much. That you're worth protecting. Two, if a self-absorbed dick like Dick sees something happening between us, then I'm not in this by myself."

Misha froze, his heart and stomach doing the flip-floppy thing again only this time it felt like his brain was trying to join in. A truly demented juggling act.

His eyes dropped to his nearly empty plate of apple pie. He knew what he needed to say, what he had to say, but his voice was just as frozen as the rest of him.

Jensen shifted, sitting back in the booth. "I guess we were both wrong. Sorry."

"I'm asexual."

"Okay," Jensen drew the word out, clearly not getting it.

"I don't feel sexual attraction."

"Oh, okay."

Misha could feel the distance forming between them. He hated it and hurried onward.

"But I'm not aromatic. I do want romance and love and a partner, but sex isn't something I’m interested in. I've really enjoyed today, spending time with you, getting to know you."

"But you don't want to have sex with me."

"I don't want to have sex with anyone."

"Have you tried it?"

"Yes. It was nice, but I didn't want to rush to do it again."

"How do you know you don't like sex if you've only had it once? Everybody's first time sucks."

"It isn't about liking or not liking sex. It's about looking at someone, seeing someone, and never thinking 'I want to get naked and naughty' with them. It's … like … I like you and I want to get to know you better and when I think about how that looks, I picture us holding hands and that's it. That's enough for me. Hand holding isn't a stepping stone to another level of physical intimacy. It's an end in itself."

Jensen just sits there. He's obviously processing, trying to make sense of everything Misha's said.

Misha waits. He knows this is most likely the end of any type of relationship with Jensen, even friendship. He's sure that Jensen had as good a time today as he had, but maybe, even if that were all it was, maybe that would be okay. Like understanding that only one season of Firefly meant that Joss could never fuck it up.

"I'm not going to say I get this, because I don't, but I can respect what you're saying. I like you, too, Misha, and I want to get to know you better. Of course, I pictured it with much less closing and your hand was definitely not what I was holding, but consent is a beautiful thing. I'd never want to make you do something you don't want to do. One thing I'm sure of though is that I want more days like this with you."

"Even if we never have sex? This is who I am, Jensen. That's never going to change."

"Good. Cause it's the guy sitting across from me that I want to be with."

Relief flooded through Misha. It was early days, and no one knew what was going to happen. Anything could happen, but it looked like they would find out together and that was enough for now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over the next few weeks, there had been lots more dates like the first. Dates spent learning about each other. Dates spent with friends and learning about them. Once Dick realized his usual charming self irritated the hell out of the little Brit, he cranked it up to 12. Much to Mark's dismay, his friends found it as amusing as Dick did.

In an attempt at retaliation, Mark brought his cousin Ruth to the bar when she was visiting. She tended to… sexually harass might be too strong a term, but sexually harass any man within a six-foot radius. It was all in jest, but she was very clear about her appreciation for the male form. 

Unfortunately for Mark, Dick and Ruth got along like a house on fire in all respects. Jeff had to lock Mark in Jeff's car one night to keep him from drinking all the tequila in stock, referring to it as brain bleach.

Misha had never been happier. He loved his work. He had an incredible man who accepted him exactly as he was. He and Dick and Rob had become part of the Roadhouse gang – family – without even realizing it until it was too late.

Life was good.

Which was why Misha should have realized it was all about to fall apart.

It was a normal dinner at Misha's. Nothing special. Nothing they hadn't done at least a dozen times, if not more. Nothing that should have torn Misha's heart in two.

"And the funny thing was Keith was verbally eviscerating Mrs. Brush and Mrs. Brush only understood about a third, maybe almost half of what Keith was saying. I hated having to reprimand him. I do not understand why that woman works at a church."

"She's a Christian."

"She's a Pharisee. I wouldn't be surprised to find out she's spying for one of those pray the gay away groups."

"Seriously?"

"Alright, no, I don't think that, but that woman would try Job's patience."

They were in the kitchen, cleaning up after Misha's delicious lemon chicken piccata. The first few times Jensen had come for dinner, he tried to follow 'the cook doesn't clean' rule, but Misha was far too particular about his kitchen and how things were to be done in his kitchen to let that happen, but he conceded Jensen could help if he really had to do something.

There was a sports talk show or pre-game show or post-game show, whatever, they were talking about sports, turned on low in the living room. Sports weren't really Misha's thing. He liked playing baseball and basketball and only set foot on a golf course to shut Dick up, but he didn't understand the obsession surrounding it. Especially football. He was convinced that if the Second Coming occurred during Monday Night Football, hardly anyone would know about it until the 10 o'clock news, which would air an hour later because of overtime.

There was something to be said for watching baseball with Jensen though. Jensen was just so damn passionate about the nine men running around, chasing a ball. Plus, there was cuddling. Misha was delighted at how much he enjoyed being held in Jensen's arms or holding Jensen. He'd always enjoyed physical contact but knowing that Jensen knew that cuddling was all there would be, and he was okay with that, was like a dream come true.

Jensen was at the top of Misha's blessing list. It was still a new relationship and Misha certainly didn't want to rush to define the level they were at, but he felt this could be the relationship, the man, he'd been waiting for. The one he barely admitted even to himself he wanted because for most of the rest of the world, sex and romance went hand in hand, if not effectively the same thing. Misha told himself it was okay that he was the odd man out. That he had a lot of love in his life already and romantic love was just one part of it. A part he'd probably never get to experience, and he told himself he'd made peace with that. He hadn't, but, hey, fake it until you make it, right?

"I need to take care of a few things. Meet you on the couch," said Jensen, leaning in to give Misha a quick kiss on the lips.

Jensen was very physically affectionate, holding hands, kisses, the aforementioned cuddling, but Misha had never felt any intent to take it farther. He thought they should have another talk about the physical side of things, but he talked himself out of bringing it up every time. Why poke a sleeping bear? Or a yellow lab. Jensen was definitely more like a Labrador than a bear.

Misha slid the pie he'd picked up from The Flying Saucer Pie Company into the oven on low, but enough to warm it for dessert later. He marveled at how Jensen stayed so slim while eating everything he could get his hands on. He was not a picky eater.

They met up at the couch and Jensen pulled him close while turning up the volume on the baseball game that was just starting. Neither of the teams playing were ones Jensen followed, but it was baseball and they could at least agree on watching that. Jensen had the most atrocious taste in movies, D-list horror and action movies. There was only so much garbage Misha was willing to sit through. Even for Jensen.

Because he had no vested interest in the game he was watching, Jensen paid more attention to the man he was holding. He fit. And not just in his arms. He fit into Jensen's life seamlessly. He fit into his heart.

For once, Misha was paying more attention to the game than Jensen. Despite not favoring one team over the other, he'd gotten sucked in and had sat forward, yelling about a call at the TV.

Fast and slow at the same time, Jensen's hand cupped Misha's face and pulled him in for a kiss. It was a deeper kiss than any that had gone before. Misha responded to the kiss. Kissing was alright and kissing Jensen was amazing, but he still didn't feel any need to take it further.

It didn't take him long to realize that Jensen did feel the need. Misha pulled back slightly and Jensen moved from his lips to his neck, one hand sliding up under his shirt.

He could do this. He could have sex with Jensen. He wasn't averse to sex. He just didn't want it.

Jensen angled them so he was partially lying on Misha, who could feel just how into this Jensen was getting. Jensen's hands were other places than under his shirt now. Misha's hips, his thighs. His private parts.

Jensen stopped, sitting up and moving back a little. Confusion and the beginnings of irritation were clear on his face.

"What the hell, Misha?"

Misha sat up, pulling down his shirt and crowding the armrest. Away from Jensen.

"What do you mean, what the hell?"

"You're not hard. Not even a little. Don't you want this?"

"What part of 'I'm asexual' didn't you understand? And if you didn't understand, why not ask me to explain further?"

"You said you've had sex before."

"Yes, when I choose to. Which isn't very often."

"When you choose to? But you don't choose to tonight, with me. When were you going to tell me to stop? You were going to tell me to stop, right?"

"It was something you wanted. I could give you that."

"Did you not listen when I said consent is a beautiful thing?"

"Did you not listen when I said I didn't want to have sex with anyone?"

"I just…. I thought…."

"That's I'd fall for your charms and be cured, is that it?"

"No!" Jensen sounded honestly outraged at the thought.

Misha stood. "I think you should leave."

Jensen jumped up and reached for Misha's hand, but stopped when he saw the hurt in Misha's eyes.

"We can talk about this. I'm sorry…."

"You didn't listen to me before. Why should I expect you to listen now?"

"Damn it, Misha. We can…."

"Leave, Jensen. I don't want you here."

"Misha, please, we can talk, I'll listen, I'll…." Jensen's desperation was clear. He couldn't believe it was falling apart because he hadn't been thinking.

"Like your listening now? I've told you to leave and yet here you are. Am I going to need to call someone to make you leave?"

At that, all the fight went out of Jensen. He wanted to stay, to work this out, but he also wanted Misha to have what he needed.

"I'm sorry."

It's amazing how loud a closing door can be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hurting over the realization he had hurt Misha, Jensen did what he probably should have done when Misha first said the word "asexual." He started with [Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asexuality), because, hey, general overview, and then hit [websites](https://www.asexuality.org/) devoted to asexuality.

He'd thought he understood what it was when Misha told him. He found out he really hadn't. He even joined a forum to discuss being with someone who was asexual and that was a real eye-opener. Some of the things he read about were off-putting. An open relationship was definitely not going to happen. Even if Misha would go for it, Jensen wouldn't. You just didn't sleep around on someone you loved. Period. He found the concept of a sex contract distasteful as well. He was already horrified that he'd started something Misha didn't want. He hadn't meant to, but he had. He wasn't exactly sure he could forgive himself for that.

With all his newly acquired knowledge spinning around in his head, he headed over to the Roadhouse. It was early enough that Jeff would be the only one around. Jeff would know what to do.

Jensen slipped in the back door to the office where Jeff was dealing with the paperwork of running a bar. He looked up and took off his glasses when Jensen knocked on the open door.

"I fucked up with Misha."

"Yeah, you did," Jeff said, his tone not letting Jensen off the hook, but there was some understanding in it as well.

"How do I fix it?"

"I believe that question requires alcohol."

"Guess it's a good thing this is a bar."

"Indeed, it is."

Jensen sat at the bar, while Jeff pulled down a bottle of Johnny Walker Red. It may have been early, but damn if it wasn't exactly what Jensen needed.

"Tell me the whole sorry tale. I've heard what Dick had to say about it. I'd keep avoiding him if I were you."

"Maybe I should let him kick my ass. I mean, I don't think he could, but I deserve it."

Then he told Jeff all about that evening, even details Jeff surely didn't want mostly because they were kind of boring.

"So, I've been in a Google haze trying to figure out what the hell I do now."

"Why didn't you do that when Misha first told you?"

"He explained it and I got his explanation. I thought. I thought I got what he was telling me. I don't know what I was really thinking."

"Why were you okay with it?"

"What?"

"From what you've told me of that conversation, he was very clear that sex wouldn't be a part of your relationship. Why keep going out with him if you couldn't handle that?"

Jensen grabbed the bottle of whisky and filled his glass. There was a comforting feeling as it burned going down his throat.

Jeff leaned against the counter behind the bar, watching Jensen patiently. He'd wait forever if that's what Jensen needed.

"Misha's amazing. He still leads with his heart, almost like a kid, and he knows better. He knows life would be easier for him if he acted like the rest of us assholes. But he doesn't do it for himself. He wants to make life a little better, a little easier for everyone else."

"You knew that after one date?"

"I knew he was special, and I knew he was special to me. I guess some part of me realized that I wanted to protect him, take care of him."

"So, what happened that night at his place?"

"I told you."

"You told me the actions, but why did you do it? Why would you toe up to a line we both know you would never cross? What the hell were you thinking?"

"That he fit. That I wanted us to go on forever. That I feel whole in a completely different way than I ever had before."

"Let me get this straight – you realized you loved him and decided that the best way to tell him was with your dick? The one part of you you know he isn't interested in?"

Jensen sits back stunned. He opens his mouth but doesn't say anything.

"You're a goddamn idiot," said Jeff, taking a shot of whisky.

"How did I…. Why didn't I…. What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Not enough alcohol in the place to answer that question."

There was more than a little fondness in that sentence.

Jensen just glared at him

"If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you don't accept things until you're ready to. When that is depends on the person. I had a girlfriend in college. Real wild cat. Always ready for an argument, didn't matter about what. I think she'd make shit up if she had to to keep it going. She could drink me under the table if she wanted. It was like everything was a fight for her, even sex. We weren't together long. You know how oil and water don't mix? We were more like gasoline and a match. It was a volatile relationship, to say the least."

"Okay. You were a shitty boyfriend. What does that have to do with this?"

"I'm getting there, and she was a shitty girlfriend too. She got in touch with me about ten years ago. She was in some 12-step program and was on the make amends step. She didn't go into a lot of detail about what she was going through in college. Just the 'felt broken, like she didn't belong, didn't know who she was, didn't know how to find out, but had to keep up appearances' thing that I honestly think everybody in college goes through to some degree or another. But it was deeper for her. It took her a long time and a lot of bad behavior to come to terms with who she was. One part of that was being asexual. Once she was ready to accept that and a few other truths, she stopped being so angry and combative, stopped living her life the way she thought she was expected to. She's got a career she loves and a husband and three adopted kids."

After a minute, Jensen asked, "how does that work?"

"I don't really know, but it does and she's happy. The way I see it, you've got to ask yourself some hard questions about what you want, what you need, what you're willing to do to make a relationship with Misha work and be ready to accept whatever answers you find."

Seeing Jensen was already working on those questions, Jeff headed back to the office to finish his paperwork.

Jensen grabbed the bottle of whisky and his glass and headed to a both off in a back corner of the bar. This was going to take a while.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jensen nursed that bottle of Johnny Walker Red from open to close, thinking about Misha, about himself and what he wanted, both for himself and for Misha.

The answers came. Some of them so slowly, he felt as though he were playing hide and seek with his brain. Some of them quickly and with a certainty that made him step back, want to argue, but he always accepted it in the end.

Jeff ran interference with his friends, so no one bothered him. He'd worried he'd have to get physical when Dick and Rob came in, but it hadn't been necessary.

When he'd seen Jensen, Dick went into full-on protector warrior mode. Rob had held him back and eventually, they'd both seen that Jensen was hurting every bit as much as Misha.

Dick had still wanted to get in his face, but a look at Jeff, Jared, Ruth, and Mark decided him against it.

A bar was a place to have fun and one thing Dick found tons of fun was irritating the hell out of Mark. Especially with Ruth.

Jensen waited two more days before contacting Misha. He had no doubts about the decision he'd made, but he felt he owed it to Misha to give it time to solidify. He wanted Misha to know he was sincere. For Misha to know he didn't take him or their relationship lightly.

He texted Misha asking to meet at the park where they had first seen each other. He asked Misha to set the time to hopefully send the message that what Misha wanted was important to him.

It must have worked because Misha texted him with a time and date.

Jensen sat in the stands of one of the baseball diamonds when Misha showed up a few minutes early.

"Hey. Glad you could make it."

"Of course. Could you just say what you need to say? I'm meeting Rob for lunch in an hour."

Jensen hated how closed off and protective Misha looked. Hated that he'd been the one to make Misha look like that. If it had been anyone else, Jensen would've made them hurt the way Misha was hurting. As it was, he could only pray it would be short-lived.

"I wanted to say I was sorry about the night. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or push for more than you wanted."

"Apology accepted. Was that all?"

"No, that is not all." Jensen paused, reigning in his temper. He finally hit angry with himself, but also with Misha. Yeah, Jensen had fucked up, and he probably didn't deserve a second chance, but he was trying here, dammit.

"Look, Misha, I know I fucked up. I know I don't deserve you. But I also know you're the best person I've ever known. I know I like myself and my life better with you in it. I'd like to explain where my head was if you'll let me."

Misha hesitated. He'd been feeling hollowed out with Jensen gone. He missed him so much, but he needed to be with someone who really could accept him as he was. He truly thought Jensen had. He couldn't have been that wrong, could he?

Misha nodded.

The tension Jensen had been feeling released him from its bear hug grip.

"You'll be shocked to know I'm not really good with words. Not about the things that are really important to me. I can talk your ear off, you know that, but I'm better with actions. So, to make sure there are no misunderstandings, you are important to me. Maybe the most important. But the more important something is to me, the less I can talk about it."

"Silence is the perfectest herald of joy; I were but little happy if I could say how much."

"Yeah."

"Shakespeare. Much Ado About Nothing."

"I know. I'm an English teacher, remember?"

"You're a baseball coach who teaches English, not the same thing."

"Anyway. We were watching the game and suddenly all I could think about was how well we fit. Or how well you fit me. Maybe I don't fit with you. I'd really like to though. You fit in my heart, Misha, and all I wanted to do was let you know that. I understand I went about it the wrong way. If I could take it back, I would. I'm action man when it comes to someone I love, but I'm willing to learn, to be who you need me to be."

"I just need you to be yourself."

"Not if that self hurts you."

"I'm not going to say it didn't hurt, because it did, but even then, I understood you weren't being malicious. I was hurt because it felt like you hadn't heard what I said about sex. That who I am wasn't important enough for you to remember."

"You are," Jensen said, tears shining in his eyes. "I was just thinking, well, I wasn't thinking. I was just feeling. I just wanted to show you that the best way I knew how. I was just so in the moment I lost sight of the fact that it probably wasn't the best way for you."

"It may never be the best way for me."

"Then let's find the best way for us. I want you in my life as my partner, my friend, the man I love. I'm willing to put in the work to make us work, but you have to decide that for yourself."

"Where is all this coming from?"

"Jeff. I would say he verbally kicked my ass, but really, he just pointed me in the right direction to figure it out for myself. I realize this is all coming out of left field for you. I needed to tell you what I had figured out. I hope it… I hope it's what you needed to hear. Thanks for listening."

"That's it? You tell me you love me, twice I may add, and you're just what? 'Thanks for listening, see you around sometime.'"

"No. I'm trying to give you a chance to figure out what you want."

"Why do you think I don't already know?"

"Because there's no way I'd be that lucky. Or that cursed depending on what you've decided."

"You realize going forward means we have to talk – really talk – about what we want and how we're going to achieve that. Because I can't do this again, Jensen, and I don't mean what happened on the couch. I can't, I won't, feel as though you're just biding your time until we get to the good stuff. Our relationship has to be sufficient without sex."

"You are the good stuff. I have a lot to learn and a lot to work on, but if the alternative is not having you in my life? That's unthinkable. One question though. You said you have had sex…."

"Jensen."

"Hold your horses, that's not where I'm going with this. You have enjoyed the cuddling and hand-holding and the kisses, haven't you?"

Misha just tilted his head, questioning Jensen's sanity.

"I need an actual answer here, buddy. You haven't just been going along with it to make me happy?"

"Of course not! I have enjoyed it, but that's…."

"Sufficient unto itself, I know."

"That's not quite how that quote goes, but why are you asking?"

"Sex I can live without. I don't think I can live without touching you, without ever physically showing you how I feel. I know it's not going to lead to sex. I know that. But asking me not to physically show you how I feel, I think it probably wouldn't be too different from asking you to have sex on a regular basis. It's possible, but it wouldn't be true to who we are."

They were both pleasantly surprised at Misha's pouncing on Jensen with hugs and kisses. They continued being pleased as their relationship grew, becoming what they each needed it to be. It wasn't effortless. They both had to put the work in – talking, listening, compromising when necessary – but, well, like the saying goes:

It's not work if you love what you're doing.


End file.
